Howl
by ambiencealikw
Summary: While patrolling, Hermione makes a terrible discovery. Draco Malfoy has the Dark Mark. What will she do about it? A story told in snapshots.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione walked along the second floor, her wand held loosely in her hand as she patrolled the school, just another of her many prefect duties. It was late, after midnight by now, and she had yet to catch a student out of bed.

She paused by the second floor bathroom, smiling as she reminisced about her second year. With Harry and Ron, Hermione had spent a whole month in there brewing Polyjuice to infiltrate the Slytherin common room. They had been so reckless.

A muffled sob came from inside the bathroom, and she stilled, instantly wary.

'Nox,' she whispered.

Silently she crept forwards until she could see into the bathroom. Bending over one of the sinks was none other than Draco Malfoy. As she watched, he cried loudly and brokenly, his shoulders heaving with the force of each sob. Her eyes dropped to his arm, and widened when they noticed the tattoo on his forearm.

He had the dark mark.

Draco Malfoy had the dark mark.

Earlier that year Harry had been certain of it, but she had thought that Harry was exaggerating, seeing things that weren't really there. All she had seen was a young boy, lost and confused, desperate for a way out of the darkness that was slowly dragging him down. She should have known that after all their years of enmity, years of watching with suspicious green eyes that Harry would know him better than they all had.

She felt sick to her stomach. What should she do? He was a death eater, the enemy. Yet there he was, right in front of her, breaking down. She disliked him, was repulsed by what he had done, but she didn't really know him. Perhaps he had been forced to do it. From her own research she knew that you didn't have to be willing to get the mark.

He certainly didn't look willing.

Indecision kept her frozen. She should tell someone, Dumbledore, probably, but she couldn't help but feel that this boy needed her help.

Hermione bit her lip and finally turned away. Maybe she could help him, but he'd only lash out at her if she called out to him now.

Just as silently as she had entered, she left. As quickly as she could, she made her way back to the Gryffindor tower and to her own bed.


	2. Chapter 2

She barely saw him over the next week, but when she did, she noticed how alone and withdrawn he was. Hermione could feel herself withdrawing from her own life as well. Somehow nothing else seemed as important as watching him.

Harry and Ron were both worried about her, continuously asking her if she was fine.

'Of course I'm fine, stop worrying.'

She wasn't fine. She couldn't sleep at night. The mark on Draco's arm haunted her. His cries haunted her. Walking through the castle at night all she could hear was the sound of his sobbing.

_I want to help._

Her patrols now almost always passed the second floor bathroom, and she always paused to look in, just in case. She had no idea what she would do if she ever saw him again, but she just couldn't keep herself away.

Pushing her food around on her plate, Hermione stared off into space. Harry watched her, noticing how pale she was and how her eyes were dull and haunted. He could tell that she wasn't sleeping, but he had no idea how to help her. So he turned away with a grimace, and continued to eat.

He didn't realise that by turning away, he had lost his chance of ever bringing her back.

Within just a few short weeks, it was the talk of the school. Hermione was no longer friends with Harry or Ron, and no one had any idea where. There had been no loud, angry fight. There were no glares or insults exchanged.

There was just… silence.

Hermione barely even noticed them missing. She was too busy following Draco Malfoy around with her eyes. Of course she was careful to be subtle, looking at him under her lashes so that it seemed she was staring at the table or the ground, but she knew he could feel her eyes on him.

He looked around often, unable to shake the feeling that he was being watched. Whoever it was never caught his eye or stared obviously, but he could feel their gaze like a brand on the back of his head. It made him jumpy and nervous.

Was there someone onto him? Had they realised his mission?

Under the table, his hand gripped his left forearm tightly as he panicked.

He got to his feet and strode out of the Great Hall with quick steps, almost running in his haste.

And she followed him.


	3. Chapter 3

Finally, one night in the middle of January he catches her. Maybe she had gotten used to him and let her guard down. Maybe she had wanted him to know.

His hand encircles her wrist, clenching hard enough to bruise. She would stare at that bruise later, and realise how much had changed, how much he had marked her.

'Granger,' he says. She is surprised that he doesn't insult her, that there is none of the expected rage marring his features. He is empty of emotion, his grey eyes blank and lifeless. He has lost his hope. He is broken.

It is the most heart-breaking and beautiful thing she has ever seen.

Over the months of shadowing him, she has come to empathise with this boy. And he is just a boy, only 16. Whatever enmity or hate that had ever been there, that repulsion she had once felt, it is all gone. She feels now that she sees him more clearly than she ever has before.

Hermione wants nothing more to tell Draco that he is not alone anymore, that she knows and that she only wants to help, so she does, she tells him.

Draco is completely still, staring down at her, his eyes slightly widened. It is an alien thought to him, this muggle born girl, his enemy, standing before him and pledging help and understanding.

He doesn't understand it, and so he wants to poke and prod at it, see if her resolve will break, test her.

Her hand drops to her side as he releases it, which he has done only to slam her up against the nearest wall. She is dazed, and her breath leaves her body in one loud gasp. His body is hard and unrelenting up against her own, one of his hands reaching up into her hair to pull her head to one side.

They stand like that for what feels like days, but is really only seconds. Her breath comes in short gasps, and her eyes are wide and innocent as she meets his gaze. Hermione knows that she should probably feel scared and angry at what he is doing, but strangely she feels safe.

It is the most exhilarated she has felt since she first walked in on him sobbing all those months ago.

As she studies his face, as she has done so many times this year, the expression on his face begins to soften into something that she doesn't quite understand. Perhaps it is acceptance.

They meet often after that, always in that bathroom. The corridor it is in is fairly abandoned, and no one ever goes inside.

It is strange, because they never really talk or do anything much at all. They are just there, sharing the space. She sits beside him against one wall, her arm pressed against his and their legs lying alongside each other.

His body is tense when her hand slips into his, but after a few moments, he relents, and their fingers intertwine.


	4. Chapter 4

Their mutual understanding now includes the library. Hermione has decided to listen to her worried teachers and get some study done. She was attracting too much notice by straying so far from her previous behaviour.

She has claimed the table right at the very back of the library behind the restricted section. It is her favourite because she is never disturbed there, not even by the professors or Madame Pince. Draco joins her most days, though he studies only rarely. Mostly he stares off into space, lulled into peace by the scratching of her quill on parchment.

By the end of the week Hermione has caught up in all her classes again. All of her professors are delighted, and it also stopped her peers from being so suspicious of her as well. It is good to feel productive again.

Harry and Ron have finally stopped following her around under the invisibility cloak. They know that she is often with Draco, but she has drifted so far away from them now that their arguments are irrelevant to her.

She knows what he is better than they ever will, better even than Harry, who has watched him for as long as she can remember. It is impossible to put into words to tell them how much the Slytherin needs her. Whatever edge he was standing over when she found him at the start of the year, he has now taken a step back. He has regained his hope.

Helping him has helped her also. She isn't as haunted anymore, actually sleeping and eating far more regularly. They both gain a little of the weight they have lost, and she is surprised at how handsome he is with some meat on his bones.

In the past, she had never really considered him attractive. She had been too caught up with his nasty attitude to see what Lavender and Parvati had been whispering about for all those years.

She stares at him differently now, not trying to see into his soul so much as basically just checking him out. He notices, because he is much quicker at picking up on her moods now, and he gives her own of his trademark Malfoy smirks.

It takes her a few seconds to realise what the butterflies in her stomach actually mean.

Hermione Granger likes Draco Malfoy.

In that way.


	5. Chapter 5

When he takes her virginity, she is bent over, bracing herself against one of the sinks in the bathroom. It is sort of awkward, because neither of them have ever done it before, but she somehow feels that it is right.

Hermione is certain the sink she is leaning over is the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets, which she finds ironic and sort of amusing. Her hand brushes against the snake on the tap, and she bites her lip to stop her from laughing out loud. Somehow she thinks he would take it the wrong way.

She is still in her uniform, with her skirt pushed up for easier access and her stockings and underwear ripped off and thrown to one side. He had been in too much of a rush to bother with undressing, and his pants and underwear lie forgotten at his feet.

Draco grips her hip with one hand, entering her with a harsh thrust, and uses the other to grab her hair. He pulls her head up, and she meets his gaze in the mirror. Somehow it makes this all the more erotic and meaningful. She can't touch or kiss him but looking at his face and watching the emotions flicker feels more personal.

It is rough and painful but exciting. Certainly, it is not how she had once imagined as a romantic, young and naïve girl. It feels more grown up, reckless in a way that would have been beyond her younger self.

He is still all darkness and sadness and rough edges, but somehow she feels like he has finally let her in. They are connected now, and she knows that she won't ever forget the feeling of him insider her.

She moans and gasps his name as his thrusting causes his penis to brush her cervix, and the pain pleasure pain is somehow perfect. Her hands are now against the mirror now, her fingers spread and touching her reflection.

It is almost embarrassing, watching the desire burn in her own eyes. Her cheeks are red, and her lips open as she moans her approval, urging him on. He looks just as wild, with his eyes glittering at her through their connection in the mirror. It is primal, the way he watches her as he penetrates her, each thrust making her bounce.

Hermione is close now, and he pulls out of her, turns her around and drags her over to the wall. He picks her up and her legs wrap around his waist as he enters her once more. This way feels different, not only the way his penis glides into her folds but also the way she is trapped between the wall and the hard muscles of his stomach. It makes her breathless.

Her hands rake up his back and bury themselves into his hair. His face is buried in her neck, and she bites her lip as his thrusts become erratic, harder and faster. They are both close.

His hands grip the globes of her ass, leaving bruises. She will be covered with them.

She is most proud of the dark bruise on her neck, where he bites down as he comes inside of her. It is covered up with a glamour, but they both know it is there.

It is their secret.


	6. Chapter 6

They rarely talk, so it is a surprise when he sits next to her in the library and his words come out in a rush. He is deathly pale, and he stumbles over the words as he tries to get the story out.

She gathers it is something to do with Katie. Hermione knew she had been cursed earlier on in the month. All the Gryffindors had been in a tizzy about it all week. Ron and Harry had glared at her as they muttered about Draco being involved somehow.

Draco tells her about how there is so much pressure on him with his father in prison. His mother's safety is completely dependent on him. He won't tell her what his mission actually is, she doesn't think he is able to say it out loud because it is forbidden.

It makes her heart clench to see him break down once again. He is shaking so hard that she can hear his teeth clacking together, and she pulls him into her arms.

He allows the contact, and she wraps her arms around him as tight as she can. It feels like she is the only thing holding him together.

A rush of footsteps coming towards their place in the library has Hermione standing up and placing herself in front of Draco. Her wand is steady, as she already knows who it is.

Harry steps around the corner, his green eyes glittering with fury.

'I know he cursed Katie,' he growls.

His wand is pointed directly at her chest, and she distantly wonders if he will hurt her to get to Draco. Somehow she doesn't think he will be able to, despite their differences in the past few months.

'Leave.'

'Hermione, step aside!'

'I will not,' she says in a contemptuous tone. She sneers at him, and thinks that perhaps Draco is rubbing off on her far too much.

Harry looks confused, and his wand drops to his side.

'Have you really fallen so far?' He asks, anguished. 'It's Katie!'

She just stares at him, no sign of remorse in her brown eyes that steadily meet his gaze. Draco needs her more. If he is to be saved, she must discard her old life. Some part of her was sad to see him so disheartened, but she had given herself over to Draco.

'You must be mistaken, Harry,' she says. 'I think you should go.'

He does so immediately, but not so fast that she doesn't see the tears falling from his eyes. She bites her lip. It is difficult to see him so upset.

With a shaky breath, Hermione turns back to Draco. She stays with him for the rest of the night in the library, stroking her hands through his soft silver hair.


	7. Chapter 7

Every night she lies on her bed and stares at the ceiling, wondering how she can possibly help him. What little improvement she has made with him flew out the window after the Katie incident.

He receives a letter every week from his mother. Draco treasures them, because they mean she is still alive, yet it only adds to the pressure of finding the answer he is looking for.

Normally, by 1am she has given up on sleeping. She dresses quietly and slips from the tower, wandering the castle restlessly. Though she occasionally comes across one of her professors, she always has the convenient excuse of patrolling through her prefect duties.

It is almost three in the morning when Hermione is discovered by Professor Snape.

'Miss Granger,' he says coolly, 'what are you doing out of bed at this hour?'

'Patrolling, sir.'

He considers her answer with narrowed eyes, and turns on his heel.

'Follow me, Miss Granger,' he commands, and meekly, she does so.

They end up in his office, where he directs her to sit opposite his desk. Snape is silent as he studies her properly. He is perceptive, and notices how thin and pale she is looking, not unlike his godson.

'I wish to discuss Mr Malfoy,' he says eventually, breaking the long silence. Hermione shifts in her seat, uncomfortable. She knew it would have been only a matter of time for him to notice her relationship with the Slytherin, but she never thought he would directly question her about him.

She doesn't know what to say, so she waits. He seems pleased by this, and nods, flicking his wand to properly ward his room.

'What I am about to say does not leave this room, am I understood?'

Hermione meets his gaze, startled at the intense look on his face. He is completely serious and unflinching, and she summons her courage. She has always found him intimidating, but she knows he would want to help Draco as much as she does, if not more.

'Yes, sir.'


	8. Chapter 8

She is running.

Her feet clatter loudly against the ground as she runs and she runs but it will never be far enough. You can't run from the truth.

Hermione trips, slamming down on her hands and knees, and she stays there, letting the sobs finally escape.

_It isn't fair._

It isn't too long before she is in hysterics, and her tears blind her as she gasps for breath. Hermione had thought she could go on like this forever but this is too much, she is in over her head.

Furious, she punches the ground, and it hurts, but not as much as her chest hurts. It is physical pain, this maelstrom of emotions, of rage and fear and desperation.

'No,' she begs, her hands grasping for another answer, instead only sinking into the grass.

It is a mantra.

_No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no._

She repeats it over and over, her entire being praying for another way.

Draco Malfoy has the dark mark.

Draco Malfoy will die.

It was in Snape's eyes, the pity. He could see how she was tied to Draco now, how she had built up a haven around him, and his pity choked her.

Severus Snape is an agent for the Order of the Phoenix.

And when Draco fails to kill Dumbledore, Snape will complete his task. Hermione is not dumb, she knows what this failure will mean.

_Voldemort will torture Narcissa in front of Draco._

_Until she is insane._

_Until she begs for mercy._

_Until she begs for death._

_And then he will kill her._

_And then he will kill Draco._

Draco Malfoy is a dead man walking. He cannot kill, and so he will be killed.


	9. Chapter 9

It is a week until she has pulled herself together enough to face him. She goes to their usual place at the library and waits.

Eventually he turns up, and his eyes are stony. He knows she has been avoiding him. She wonders what she could possibly say to him, she has been trying to come up with something all week, but words had failed her.

She bites her lip, the tell-tale sign that she is nervous and he sits down beside her.

Draco brings out a bottle of firewhiskey and places it on the table.

Hermione has never had alcohol before. She looks at him doubtfully and he raises an eyebrow, challenging her. She rolls her eyes and gives in.

Maybe the alcohol will make her feel numb and she deserves a bit of fun.

The first sip burns her throat and she splutters for breath, feeling it move through every part of her body, right down to her toes. She curls them, wondering when the last time was that she had been this warm. Draco cracks a smile and takes the bottle from her, sipping it and then handing it back.

After four mouthfuls she is feeling a bit dizzy and brave and free. The warmth spreads through her body and everything else fades into the background. Draco is in front of her, alive, for now, and anything else is unimportant.

His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are bright. He seems to hold his liquor better than she does, but he is just as warm and tipsy as her.

Neither would be able to say afterwards who leaned in first.

It is their first kiss, and it is hot and messy and tastes like whiskey.

But it is woooonderful.

Draco grabs the bottle of alcohol, taking another swig from it. He swallows and she kisses him, her tongue diving into his mouth, chasing the taste of fire.

After a few hours the bottle is finished, and they are both completely hammered. She smiles at him and he pulls her into his lap so that she is straddling him. She can't seem to get close enough to him and they rip at each other's clothes until they can feel skin on skin.

They don't have sex, too drunk to do more than messily kiss and explore each other's bodies.

By the time the sky peeks through the windows, they are mostly clothed, lying on the floor giggling at nothing.

Hermione sighs and turns to face him, tracing a hand down his cheek. His smile is automatic, and it is contagious, making her smile as well.

She will remember him like this.


	10. Chapter 10

It is a week until she has pulled herself together enough to face him. She goes to their usual place at the library and waits.

Eventually he turns up, and his eyes are stony. He knows she has been avoiding him. She wonders what she could possibly say to him, she has been trying to come up with something all week, but words had failed her.

She bites her lip, the tell-tale sign that she is nervous and he sits down beside her.

Draco brings out a bottle of firewhiskey and places it on the table.

Hermione has never had alcohol before. She looks at him doubtfully and he raises an eyebrow, challenging her. She rolls her eyes and gives in.

Maybe the alcohol will make her feel numb and she deserves a bit of fun.

The first sip burns her throat and she splutters for breath, feeling it move through every part of her body, right down to her toes. She curls them, wondering when the last time was that she had been this warm. Draco cracks a smile and takes the bottle from her, sipping it and then handing it back.

After four mouthfuls she is feeling a bit dizzy and brave and free. The warmth spreads through her body and everything else fades into the background. Draco is in front of her, alive, for now, and anything else is unimportant.

His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are bright. He seems to hold his liquor better than she does, but he is just as warm and tipsy as her.

Neither would be able to say afterwards who leaned in first.

It is their first kiss, and it is hot and messy and tastes like whiskey.

But it is woooonderful.

Draco grabs the bottle of alcohol, taking another swig from it. He swallows and she kisses him, her tongue diving into his mouth, chasing the taste of fire.

After a few hours the bottle is finished, and they are both completely hammered. She smiles at him and he pulls her into his lap so that she is straddling him. She can't seem to get close enough to him and they rip at each other's clothes until they can feel skin on skin.

They don't have sex, too drunk to do more than messily kiss and explore each other's bodies.

By the time the sky peeks through the windows, they are mostly clothed, lying on the floor giggling at nothing.

Hermione sighs and turns to face him, tracing a hand down his cheek. His smile is automatic, and it is contagious, making her smile as well.

She will remember him like this.


	11. Chapter 11

Hermione sits on the cold stone of the second floor bathroom, staring at the Marauders Map. She has been watching for hours, waiting for Draco to reappear. It had only taken her about ten minutes to realise that he was probably in the Room of Requirement, so currently her gaze was focussed on the corridor it was located in.

Though she wanted to barge up there and confront him, make him see the big mistake he was making, she knows it would ruin everything. He probably wouldn't talk to her again, and she would lose her chance to save him. And she _would_ save him.

When he finally reappears on the map, she is nervous. He gets closer and closer to the bathroom, and she stuffs the map in her bag, whispering the password that turns it blank. What should she say to him?

'Hey,' he says from the doorway.

She looks up at him, drinking in the sight of him. His eyes are surrounded by dark shadows, a sign of his stress and insomnia. His hair is a bit wild, like he has been running his hands through it in frustration, a habit of his that she has noticed since she got to know him. There is a slump to his shoulders that tells of his defeat. He has not succeeded, at least, not yet. There is still time.

'Hey,' she returns. The awkward silence lengthens as they stare into each other's eyes. 'Come here.'

Draco complies, moving to sit beside her. She motions from him to put his head in her lap, and he does so, his eyes closing almost straight away. She hums and strokes his hair and face, soothing him with the sound of her voice and her soft touch. As he begins to fall asleep, she uses her wand to send him into a deep, dreamless sleep, and then places a cushioning charm on the stone underneath him. He should get a few hours of sleep at least.

The map once again in her hand, Hermione is able to avoid her fellow classmates and any professors who might be patrolling the corridors. She reaches the Room of Requirement, and uses her fake galleon to send a message directly to Harry. Within twenty minutes he has joined her.

'Whatever his plan is, he's keeping it in here,' Hermione says quietly. He nods, and a faint sense of unease settles in the pit of her stomach. She is betraying Draco. Even though she is trying to save his life, she feels like a horrible person.

They enter the Room of Hidden Things. Hermione had discovered it in a book from the restricted section, which was a very old edition of Hogwarts, A History. It contained information about most of the secret rooms and passages within the grounds. There had been a few notable exclusions, however, such as the Chamber of Secrets, which had made her feel a little superior.

She is shocked by the sheer amount of things contained in the room. Her head is constantly turning, trying to take everything in. The two of them follow a meandering path that has been created through the piles of forgotten objects, and come to stand in front of a large, very familiar cupboard.

'Is that what I think it is, Harry?' Her voice is fearful, and her stomach drops when his wide green eyes meet hers, confirming her worst fears.

Draco is trying to create a portal.


	12. Chapter 12

When Hermione was a little girl, she climbed the tallest tree in her backyard. Really, she'd only been a few metres off the ground, but she remembers the sick, swooping feeling in her stomach as she fell to the ground. The dreadful anticipation of impact as every cell in her body braced for what was to come.

That's what it felt like now, as she walked down the corridor. She was alone. Harry had gone to talk to Dumbledore, but Hermione wasn't sure if it would do any good. Snape had said that they already knew what Draco was attempting, why would they stop him?

Draco would allow Death Eaters to enter the school. So many people would be in danger, and he would point his wand at Dumbledore, and find out if he was dark enough to kill him.

_Please don't be full of that much darkness, she pleaded silently._

She started to run, feeling like the only way to stop it happening was to reach him now. To reach that little bit of hope in his chest that stubbornly refused to die and make it burn brighter.

Hermione almost crashed into him as she rounded the corner, but he caught her arms and she came to a stop.

Her desperate eyes drank him in, and she wondered how much of him she had invented in her mind.

His hands tightened around her arms as she reached up on her tiptoes and kissed him softly.

It was different to their previous kisses, gentle and sweet, and he was hesitant and vulnerable as he returned it.

When she pulled away, her cheeks were blushing a bright red, and it took every ounce of her Gryffindor courage to say the one thing she had held inside her for so long.

'I love you, Draco Malfoy.'

He released her, and his face was unreadable. She bit her lip to stop it trembling and her brown eyes met his grey ones, though his face became slightly blurry as tears welled.

'You can't,' he choked out eventually, and the look of despair on his face was more heartbreaking than if he had rejected her outright.

_Burn a little brighter, she pleaded._

'I do.'

She stepped closer and pulled him into her embrace. He buried his face in her neck, surrounded by her hair, and she wrapped her hands around his waist, and closed her eyes tightly.


	13. Chapter 13

It was another day before Harry approached her again. A long, agonising day spent avoiding Draco and searching her mind for a way out of this mess.

'He said to let things run their course, and that it would work out in the end,' Harry says after he drags her into a hidden alcove.

'Snape said a similar thing, that there were plans in place to protect him, but, oh Harry, we can't even let him attempt it. He's already such a broken thing,' she entreats him.

'Somehow we have to protect his mother. If we do that, we'll have him.' There is a grim set to his mouth, and Hermione knows it will be dangerous.

'The only thing I could think of is going to Tonks, she's Narcissa's cousin and an Auror. She could help,' Hermione muses.

She knows that there is a lot of hate between them, after Andromeda had been disowned for loving a muggle, but Tonks was a good person, and their friend. She would help them.

Harry looks surprised, and Hermione knows that asking adults for help is normally the furthest thing from his mind. He had probably been thinking of the most reckless way to infiltrate Malfoy Manor. He nods reluctantly, and he is put in charge of writing to Tonks for her help and advice.

They both know that Tonks is often at the school, one of the Aurors that patrol the corridors at night, so she is set up perfectly to help them. No one would ever expect it.

After Harry has left Hermione walks up to the large metal clock near the hospital wing and looks out over the grounds. Her heart is beating wildly, thumping so loudly that surely anyone who was to walk past could hear it.

For the first time she could remember since starting this, she felt hope.


	14. Chapter 14

It was difficult for her to be around Draco for the next week. The tension strummed through her, and she constantly worried over what could go wrong. The night of the rescue, she avoided him completely, floating through the castle like a ghost, her eyes distant, seeing possibilities in the air around her.

He had noticed her odd behaviour, of course, and was lying in wait for her at their place in the library.

'Tell me what the hell is going on,' he demanded.

Hermione looked at him, and for the first time in weeks she noticed that he was looking at her directly. Ever since her declaration of love, he had pulled away from her, both physically and mentally, unsure how he felt about it. He had still not decided how he felt about her, but for now, he could not afford to feel. The only thing he had decided for sure was that allowing her to drift back out of his life was not an option.

How could she tell him that right now his cousin was risking all their lives by trying to rescue his mother from Malfoy Manor? By the end of this night, both Tonks and Narcissa could be dead, and Draco would never forgive her, and he would lose everything that mattered to him. His eyes narrowed as the silence stretched on. Obviously she was reluctant. He would have to persuade her.

He trapped her against the wall with his body, his arms on each side of her head. He leaned forward slightly, and his hard body was pressed against hers. His mouth hovered just out of reach. Hermione could feel his breath dusting her lips, and she licked her lips nervously.

Draco's eyes were a dark grey, his pupils dilated as he allowed the lust, the want for her to consume him. She clenched her legs, unable to resist the desire she could see and feel in him, and her head fell back as he tasted the skin of her neck. He bit her neck lightly, licking it sensuously as her pulse quickened. She began to cling to him, rubbing her body along his, but he refused to allow it to go any further than his teasing bites and kisses.

Finally, he crushed her to the wall, trapping her completely. He began to thrust against her, rubbing their groins together and creating a wonderful friction that caused her to make the most delectable noises. He bit down on her ear and whispered into it, his hot breath making her shiver.

'Tell me.'

She took out the galleon from her pocket, the same that she had created in her fifth year for Dumbledore's Army. On it was the message she had been waiting for. Her eyes darted up to his suspicious ones.

Draco would walk away as soon as she told him, she knew, so she took a moment to really look at him and memorise the way she felt. He looked rumpled and sexy, and Hermione knew she looked completely ravaged. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and her knees were weak with desire. She wanted to spare him this heartache, but she knew that the longer she kept it from him, the angrier he would be in the end.

'Hermione,' he said, the command in his voice brooking no argument.

'Tonight, Nymphadora Tonks went to Malfoy Manor to liberate her cousin Narcissa Malfoy from the clutches of the Death Eaters,' Hermione said.

He was upon her before she could take a single breath, and his hands were vices around her arms. Draco pulled her up to him so that they were nose to nose, and his eyes were completely clear and wide as they searched hers.

It was obvious that he was completely terrified. With some difficulty, Hermione pulled her right arm out of his and offered up the fake galleon.

Instead of a line of digits telling a time and date, the small, intricate symbols spelled out a two words.

'NM safe.'


	15. Chapter 15

All weekend Hermione waited for him. She tried to convince herself over and over again that he would return, that he would come back to her, but the hollow feeling at the pit of her stomach made her believe otherwise.

She stood in their bathroom, looking at her reflection, thinking back to when this had all started. She had been so in control before then, before him. Now she was thin and pale and weak and shaking as sobs wracked her body. There would be no inquisitive soul at the doorway to turn to, there was no one left.

Draco had left with his mother to who knows where. No one had told her where they were going or if they would ever return. Harry had taken to spending more time with Dumbledore, preparing for the war to come, Ron had not so much as spared her a glance since she had started this relationship of sorts with Draco, and Ginny just did not understand how she could cosy up with their enemy.

The rescue had been very hushed up, and Hermione wondered if she was going crazy and that she had imagined the whole thing. Yet she knew she could not have imagined this heart-wrenching loneliness that wracked her body.

She had nightmares about what could have happened if everything had gone wrong. Tonks could have been discovered, and both she and Narcissa could have been killed. It would have been all her fault. Even though they were both safe now, the guilt of what-ifs plagued her dreams.

A week later, Draco Malfoy returned to the school, and made a beeline directly for the library. It was the middle of the day, sun streaming through the tall windows and students floated around nearby, just out of earshot. He approached Hermione, who looked up at him with shock and tension evident in her eyes.

He rushed at her and she shrunk away, only to gasp as he gathered her into his arms and began to kiss her desperately. After a moment of stunned silence, Hermione gripped the front of his robe with both hands and returned his kiss with fervour.

When he pulled away they were both out of breath, and he looked down at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

'Granger, you stupid infuriating know-it-all Gryffindor, do you know how close everything came to going wrong?' He said, enunciating every word coldly.

'I knew it was risky, but it was better than the alternative,' she whispered.

'Which was?'

She smoothed her hands down his chest and stepped back to look at him, properly. He was thin and pale, but there was light in his eyes, life. Her heart lifted and she gave him a small, broken smile that tasted salty from the tears running down her face.

'Losing you.'


	16. Chapter 16

She lay in his bed, her fingers softly trailing over his chest. Her throat was tight with emotion, and Hermione refused to meet his eyes. He was watching her, she knew, but she couldn't bear to see the farewell lingering on his tongue.

For the first time, they had made love, and it had been vastly different to their past experiences. There had been a tenderness about him, as he kissed her eyelids and twined their fingers together. The length of him was always moving, but slowly and tenderly, so that she felt every intimate moment.

When they came together she cried out in bliss, sobbing against his neck at the ecstasy and sorrow and finality of it all.

Though her heart had fluttered in her chest, she had held a part of herself back, because already the darkness was seeping back in, the danger was lurking just outside the door, and they could not go on this way.

She was a weakness and her courage had brought him to his knees and made him give in to her. But it had only been for a night, a single night, and the sun was breaking over the horizon.

They did not say anything, for there were no words to be said. Deep down, both of them had realised a long time ago that there would be an end to this. She dressed slowly, putting off that final moment for as long as she could.

Now, they stood by the door. Her, with her fingers grasping the handle, shaking in the effort it took not to break. He, with his grey eyes full of sorrow, trailing one hand down her spine.

He kissed the top of her head, and she couldn't bear it a moment longer. By the time he opened his eyes, she was gone.

Always when she left him after their couplings, she was sore, but this time it was a different kind of ache. Like every step away from him was taking something from her, ripping it out from her chest and leaving a void.

All that connected them now was a single thread, from her heart to his.

In less than an hour, he would be gone from the castle, and gone from her life. He would go to the place where his mother was hidden until this darkness that threatened their existence was finally defeated. For the two of them, there was no place for love in such a war.

Hermione walked into the Great Hall and positioned herself between Harry and Ron with not so much as a single word. They nodded at her, and everything went back to normal in the span of a single breath.

There was a war to win, and she would be where she belonged, on the front lines beside Ron and Harry, the Golden Trio. She had won this victory for them, little though it seemed to her. The support of the Malfoys had been important to Voldemort, and they had been whisked away from right under his nose.

Though she might survive this war, she worried about how thin and vulnerable that thread was, how it would be stretched over great distances, and over a long time. How it had been built on truth and lies, so intimately woven together that not even she was certain of which was which anymore.

All she could do was hold onto her end of the thread, and hope that no matter what happened in this war, the thread of their love would endure.

~~End.


End file.
